Lennon's Wonderland
by Alitote
Summary: Alice in Wonderland? Pfft! Why not Lennon in Wonderland!
1. Prologue

John sighed and slumped against his chair, letting the paper he'd been reading float silently to the floor as he closed his eyes and rested his head against the chair. It was warm and sunny outside, the sun shining in through the windows and cooking him slowly. All warm and comfy, John began to loose his grip on consciousness.

He was exhausted, running around Julian and Cynthia on his one day off in who knows how long and now they were both out. Something about Cynthia needing to find the right flowers for the garden or something. Well that was lovely, but John wanted to relax so Julian went with her. He'd been sitting there reading for a good half hour until his eyelids momentarily closed and there was a shuffling from the kitchen.

John's eyes flew open and he was up in seconds, edging towards the kitchen doorway with a frown on his face. No one was supposed to be here...

"Cyn?" He called, only to receive no answer. The shuffling continued and he heard the back door open and shut quickly. Figuring he'd just been robbed, John ran through the kitchen and tore the door open as he chased whoever it was.

The backyard was empty, John looking around the large estate as he tried to find where the robber might have gone. He bristled, fans were always trying to break in and steal his things, little "memento's" they were sure could be worth a fortune-to them anyway. George had once caught two girls hiding under his bed in the middle of the night, ranted about it to them for hours the next day he was so angry.

Running through the gardens, John looked frantically as he hear the brush rustle but he wasn't sure if it was because of the wind. Eventually he turned a corner and spied a rather odd hole in the side of a small hill on the edge of the property. Robber forgotten, John approached the rabbit hole to inspect it there were any residents inside.

There was nothing, just dirt and a deep, depp hole. John sighed and turned to walk away when suddenelly he felt a sharp pain in his head and then there was nothing.


	2. Chapter 1

John felt like the world was swirling and spinning around him, and as the light entered his retinas and caused his head to feel like it was cracking open, he realized the world _was_ moving around him!

Only it wasn't turning round and round, it was zooming past him.

"Woah!" He cried in surprise, the haze of unconsciousness getting booted from his system as he realized he was _falling!_ Very, very fast! John threw out his arms, grabbing at the furniture, cupboards, and objects that floated in midair around him as he fell and they each slipped somehow from his grasp every time.

With a strangled cry, he eventually grabbed onto a knob of a golden bedpost and the bed began to fall with him when whatever force that was sucking him down couldn't tear his grip from the metal ball in his hands. John cried out, fearing he'd be crushed by the bed and climbed on top, feeling like he was moving through solid rock as he climbed _up_ while falling _down_.

John panted, sweating from the effort, and looked around as he fell. A foot of the bed hit a cupboard and knocked it's doors open, a jar tumbling onto the comforter and rolling to bump Lennon's knee. John picked it up and read the label, _ORANGE MARMALADE,_ and frowned when he found the jar to be empty.

"This is just like-" John didn't get to finish his sentence as the bed caught on a piano and tipped to the side, sending Lennon sliding off and tumbling on his own once again, the bed and jar he'd let go of in surprise hanging in the air above him. John screamed in fright, seeming to fall faster and faster and _faster_ until...

He stopped short, winded from the g-force acting on him and floating gently to the ground like a feather. John coughed as he forced the oxygen back into his lungs and looked around, slightly dazed at the hallway that led out endlessly before him. The walls were lined with doors upon doors and he could hear footsteps emanating from farther down.

"Hello?!" John shouted, getting up and chasing after the footsteps. He turned a corner and stopped short, seeing the sound's owner for the first time.

No...

That was impossible...

Julia Lennon stood at the next corner of the hall, her back turned to her son and dressed in a short, white, summer dress with white stockings with white Mary Janes and a small white mini jacket. Two fluffy white ears rose from her hair and a thin silver chain with white bobbles on it hung at her waist, bouncing as she began to walk around the corner.

"Wait!" John screamed, running faster to try and catch up but he heard a door close as he turned the corner and once again he was alone. Trying each door frantically John screamed in desperation. Feeling like he was about to cry, John looked around for an answer only to see the end of the hall, which blew out into a circular room with four doors along it's walls. In the middle stood a tiny glass table with a box on it.

John looked around at the doors and saw them all to be quiet different. Three of them looked very old and underused, their paint peeling and the wood covered in dust. One, a green one with faded gold designs, stood as the largest and most intricate of them all. Another was red and the handle was a wrought iron circle, like on those old pirate ships in the movies. The third was beautiful in it's own way, a lion shaped door knocker on it and handle made to look like a closed paw.

The fourth door was very small, and very plain. It looked well taken care of, new paint and not a speck of dust, and there was a curtain rod sitting right above it, the curtain pushed back so you could see this door. John sighed and looked at the glass table, and noticed that beside the box sat a small iron key. Snatching it up, John turned to the three larger doors and jammed the key inside their keyholes, and each time was met with failure as it wasn't the key to unlock their doors. He turned to the fourth door and slipped the key inside, frowning when it turned the lock and the door lazily swung open to reveal the outside-a large and colorful garden. John smirked, knowing George would have killed to see this garden and decided to try and find a way through so he could brag to him about it. Oh if only he'd brought a camera...

"This must be a puzzle of some kind..." John thought to himself aloud and turned to the glass table and carefully pried it's box open.

A bottle sat inside with water contained inside it, the label _Drink Me_ written on it in black spiky handwriting. Shrugging, John sipped it and gagged as he found it to be most certainly _not_ water!

A wind rushed past him and John gasped as he began to collapse, only to realize he wasn't collapsing, _he was shrinking!_ As he tumbled to the floor, no higher than about two inches, he looked around at his enlarged surroundings.

"No way..." He whispered, "No freakin' way!"

He turned to the open door, beginning to walk forward until a curious wind blew and shut the door! John cried out and ran as he heard it lock, hitting the much larger door with his tiny fists in anger until he burned himself out and slunk to the floor, looking helplessly up at the glass table with the key sitting on top and wondered how he'd be able to reach it now. He looked around for a splinter or something he could use to maybe climb it and spotted a small box by one of the table's feet.

That most certainly had _not_ been there before and John frowned as he rose to his feet to inspect. It was a box, much like the one on top of the table, but his proper size. On the inside were a number of cakes wrapped in plastic, all colorfully decorated and all different flavors. Each one had the words _Eat Me_ written on it in intricate icing and John was almost sorry to eat the chocolate one he'd selected with strawberry frosting. He smirked, "I must be dreaming." And bit it in half.

Immediately he fell back as his body enlarged, growing and surpassing his normal size in seconds flat, bumping his head rather hard on the ceiling. Now he was much to big for the door or the table and he felt a twinge of rage as he tried to carefully pick the key up from the table, his fingers to large to work it into the key hole.

Glancing at the bottle still sitting beside it's box, he carefully picked it up between his fingers and pressed the edge to his large lips, letting a drop fall on them and quickly swallowing it. He gasped as his size decreased to where he could merely sit and easily reach across the table. Standing, he quickly opened the door a second time and pushed the table so one of it's glass feet kept it propped open before drinking another sip and shrinking to his normal size. He continued to sip until he reached a respectable height of four inches and walked easily through the door, his head not even brushing the frame.


	3. Chapter 2

The garden looked like a garden from England, beautiful, but no sun to brighten things up. The colors were vibrant, eye popping and loud. Pink and red roses mixed with purple violets, baby's breath and sunflowers swirling this way and that among the green leaves. Trees towered here and there, their leaves peppered with blossoms of promised fruit. A blue butterfly lazily flew overhead, a green caterpillar milling it's way down the rich brown dirt garden path. John spied a scurrying a brown mouse running through the thick forest of grass a few feet away.

John sniggered to himself, wondering how George would react when he told him about this place. He considered plucking a few flowers for proof but discovered he was to small now, the plants either towering above him or matching his new height of four inches. John sighed, wondering how he'd get back to normal height-although this would certainly be proof enough right?

Then he wondered how everyone would react to hearing he'd gotten himself shrunk just to be able to gloat over a garden. He smiled, reminded of when Paul had to get "shrunk" for that one movie and wondered if he could relate to John's current predicament.

Just then the sky groaned overhead and John looked up in time to see lights run across the clouds. He groaned, looking this way and that for some sort of shelter but it was to late. Large, fat, drops of water ambushed John who broke into a run as he hurried down the path. Fearing he'd be crushed by the water or drowned, he tried his best to dodge this way and that until he heard his feet slapping the water underfoot. The entire garden was becoming flooded and he was worried there was nothing he could do!

"The hell is this?" He gasped, watching the rain water rise fast, freezing his calves in no time.

"Rain! Rain! Go away!" A voice squeaked behind him and John turned in time to see a title wave bowling over the large purple flowers, crushing pink and yellow tulips before it swept him and the orange roses away. Screaming, John nearly choked as he inhaled enough water to probably fill his lungs three times over. He coughed when his head broke the surface, spitting as much water as he could before being thrown underwater again.

"Help!" He screamed, coughing and spitting, "Help me!"

A dark shape intruded on his peripheral as he was forced back under and when he came up he coughed and spit to clear his airways, forcing his arms to reach out and flail as he tried to swim towards them.

"Oi! Hey!" John screamed, "Help! Please!"

The figure was a man as small as John, riding a large brown leaf and holding tight. John wasn't sure if it was the water in his eyes or the fast pace in which the water was throwing him around, but he could have sworn the man's brown hair had a pair of large brown mouse ears peeking out and sitting atop his head. The man took one look at John and reached out to pluck him from the water. John coughed as he lay there on the leaf limply, the water tearing itself from his lungs as he retched.

Eventually the sky began to clear and John's breathe began to return. He looked up into the suddenly sunny sky and cursed the bipolar English weather.

"Don't say such words!" His rescuer exclaimed, "What kind of horrible person says those words!?"

"What?" John asked, coughing the last of the water from his system, "Sorry, sorry. Wasn't... thinking..."

"Well alright then, I suppose." The man sniffed and John blinked as his poor eyes eventually came into focus. What he'd seen was true! The man had a pair of brown mouse ears on his head!

When he turned to frown at John's shocked face, John saw he also wore a t-shirt with the words WRS98.6 across it in big pink letters. Around his neck hung a pair of headphones, the cord threaded through his back belt loop and coiling like a tail behind him.

"What is it?" He snapped, "What's wrong?"

"Is that a hat?"

"What?"

"Is that a hat?" John asked, feeling rather stupid as he pointed at the furry ears.

"What?!" The man snapped, face going red, "These are my ears!" He screamed.

"Really?" John breathed amazed.

"What's wrong with my ears eh?" The man snarled, "You against ears? Think you're more important than them? I'll inform you right now you have _two_ of them pal!"

"No! No!" John said quickly, scared the man might boot him from the leaf, "Just, where I come from I've never seen a person with... mouse ears?"

"Oh... so you're just ignorant huh?" The man smirked rather poisonously and John swallowed back an insult or two.

"Yes," He said rather woodenly, "I am... sorry again..."

"So is everyone where you're from ignorant?" the man continued and John frowned.

"No." He said, turning to look at the lake they were floating along now, the beautiful garden gone, "Where are we going anyway?"

"The Reporters Race!" The man smiled, face lighting up, "We'll be dry so fast! And we'll have so many prizes once we're done!"

"Reporters Race?" John repeated, "Like a press conference?"

"No, nothing as silly as that," The man chuckled, "Anyway, let's not talk about a silly race until we're there. Tell me about something interesting, the world wants to know!"

"The world? That your name?" John asked, feeling cheeky towards a rescuer he didn't like. The man snarled again and sniffed.

"My name is Murray the Mouse for your information!" He snapped, "As you can see, I'm a _Mouse!_"

"Okay, so who's the world?"

"You are stupid aren't you," Murray continued his insult barrage, "The world is the world of course!"

"Okay... and how long till we get to this race?"

"Why, don't you like me?" Murray sniffed haughtily.

_'No, not at all,'_ "I like you very much, I was just curious." John smiled and Murray seemed to buy it.

"We'll be there soon-and when we get there I'll share my story!"

"Your story?"

"Yes! It's a big scoop story! I'll be the biggest Radio Reporter there!"

"I thought you were a Radio DJ." John said and wasn't at all surprised when Murray the Mouse's face twisted red in fury, "Sorry!"

"No matter," Murray sighed, "We're here!" He cried.


	4. Chapter 3

John really didn't understand.

This was crazier than any high he'd ever had... and a lot weirder than anything he'd ever done. He and Murray the Mouse landed on a rocky shore, where a few feet away the rocks began to jut and jump from the ground making small mountains and pedestals where several flashy figures stood. Surrounding them, along the more flatter ground, were a mess of men and woman in fancy business attire holding cameras or notepads or mobile recording equipment. They stood shouting to the flashier figures above them, all holding guitars or drumsticks or some other sort of instrument.

"This is a... Reporter's Race?" He asked Murray, turning to look when he received no sort of answer at all to discover Murray had abandoned him for the throng of pushy reporters.

"Not _a_ Reporters Race, _The_ Reporter's Race." A man said on the other side of him and John jumped at the surprise.

"Brian?"

He could have sworn the Beatles manager, Brian Epstein stood beside him, although as he took another look he wasn't sure it was Brian Epstein at all. Yes he was about the same height, and his face was the same as it grinned kindly down at him. But his suit was made with deep blue bird feathers, and in his hand he held an ornate cane with a microphone on the end of it. His slacks were made of feathers too, and his shoes were styled so they gave the appearance of bird's feet, the stitching colored yellow and curving around in the brown leather.

"Brian?" The feather look alike of Brian laughed, "I'm sorry, you must have me confused with someone else. I'm the Dodo, I keep these idiots in line when they talk to the subjects. It's the best way to get dry after a storm you know!"

"Right..." John nodded slowly, "Tell me, how do I get back to that garden? The giant one with the door? I kind of need to go back through to get home."

The Dodo chuckled again, "Now that's a silly idea! Going backwards improperly! Listen you, the only way to get out, is to go on!"

"And what the hell does that mean?!"

Suddenly a short burst of static screamed from the Dodo's microphone cane and the feathered man jumped, "Oh goodness! Sorry but we're gonna have to get this show on the road! Otherwise they wont get dry in time!"

"Time for what?" John asked as he was ushered forward onto the rocky platform beside the glitzily dressed figures.

"The Queen's croquet game of course!" One of the figures answered, strumming slowly on his guitar. His leather jacket was studded with diamonds and rubies, his pants glittering like gold. The girl beside him wore a tight mini dress entirely stitched with sequins and she danced around for the photographers in the crowd.

"Ladies and Gentleman!" The Dodo cried, silencing the mob of reporters, "I present to you, the Figures! And alongside them, newcomer Alice!"

"Alice?" John balked, "Me names John Lennon!"

"Alice! Alice! Over here!" a reporter cried, "Alice!"

"What?" John snapped.

"Do you plan to stay in Wonderland long?"

"Are you a mocker or a rod?"

"Who exactly was the Walrus?!"

John backed away from the slew of questions and looked around for help. Although none was given, the Figures all standing there looking rather bored as they fingered their instruments and giggled to themselves. The Dodo watched him with rapt attention, like a small puppy dog with big brown eyes. John grimaced and looked around for a way out but he was quite surrounded by these buzzing reporters, and John had a few sudden flashbacks to those infernal press conferences he'd slugged through.

"Alice!"

"Alice look!"

"One for the papers eh Alice?!"

"Alice!"

"Oh my..."

That last voice originated from somewhere behind John and he whirled around to see a rather welcoming figure standing beside him suddenly.

George Harrison, bless his soul, stood between John and the Figures, leaning casually on leather jacket man's shoulder as he smiled down at the suddenly very quiet reporters. Then John blinked and got a proper look, noticing the dark gray, almost black, fuzzy cat ears sitting atop his mate's head, or the black and blue-gray striped tail dancing from a hole at the back of his jeans. There was something off about his smile too, maybe it was that it was to wide or maybe to toothy? Emphasizing his fangs for canines and making them a tad horrific to the every day viewer. He wore a silk purple shirt and dark wash jeans, his boots clacking along the rock as he tapped his foot patiently.

"Really?" The Dodo cried, "I told you not to come here for a reason-"

"But I wanna see the Alice too!" George wailed, throwing his arms around John's neck and nuzzling into his shoulder, tickling John's nose with his cat ears, "It's not fair you guys get to keep her all to yourself!"

"But every time you show up they always-"

"Cat!" A female interviewer screamed and everyone was scrambling away, disappearing into the trees behind John or swimming back out into the giant rainwater lake. The Figures merely shrugged and took their opportunity to slink away before the Dodo could call them back.

"-run. Great! How am I to get them dry now?" The Dodo groaned, waving a man with green scaly skin and a lizard's tale emerging from his green pants over as they began talking animatedly.

"George," John spluttered, pushing his rather clingy friend away and rubbing his now rather irritated nose, "What's going on? What's with the ears?"

"What time is it?" George asked out of the blue, seeming rather curious as he folded his hands behind his back and rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. Frowning, John checked his watch.

"No good, it busted after the storm I guess."

"After the storm?" George's face lit up in panic, "Oh! I'm late then!" He leapt from rock to rock and took off at a run towards the trees.

"George wait!" John screamed, looking down to attempt climbing to the rocky shore below, but as he looked up, he saw his lead guitarist was gone.

"He wont be back for a while, if he knows what's good for him." The Dodo glowered before he and his lizard-like assistant took off into the trees too, hoping to recapture their wet reporters.

John just stood there feeling lost and confused.


	5. Chapter 4

After finding a way down from the rocky ledge, John ran where everyone else had-the woods. Now on the outside, they looked like any other set of woods with trees and green leaves hanging about. But on the inside, at times it seemed much spookier. He thought he saw traces of fog here and there slipping under the trees and could hear animals scuttling about a ways off at times.

A little frightened, and wondering if he was going mad, John nearly cried at the sight of a house among a clearing, disrupting the eerie wood. Quickly, he hurried towards what looked to be a small house complete with a small white fence and a front garden. A clothes line could be seen peeking out from the back and one of the windows was open, the sitting room window as John could hear the radio singing. He pulled open the latch and walked up the little stone path, admiring how cute the place was. It was a proper British home, one like the ones he'd seen in Liverpool as a kid when he'd run up and down the streets with his friends.

Knocking on the door and receiving no answer, John knocked twice more before turning the knob to find it was already open. Deciding this was as good an invitation as any, he walked inside and looked around, nearly dropping to the floor in shock.

This was his mother's house.

Down to the last spec of dust, it was his mothers house on the inside. He would swear to it on a stack of bibles if he had to. Reverently, he walked through the first floor, reliving pleasant childhood memories and smiling so much his face was beginning to hurt.

"You seem happy."

John turned in surprise to see George standing in the doorway to the kitchen, ears and tail still firmly attached. Only now his purple silk shirt had been replaced with a pink one, a purple jacket wrapped around his lanky waist should he need it, it seemed.

"Why wouldn't I be?" John asked, even George's odd presence not enough to bring his mood down, "And anyway, what are you doing here George?"

George frowned, "George? No, no mate I'm-"

The sound of a door opening and closing at the front of the house sent John running to meet his mother, excitement so blinding he nearly crashed into the newcomer, who as it turns out was not his mother but the lizard man instead.

"Hello!" he cried in surprise, "What's with you?"

"Sorry, was expectin' someone else." John said sheepishly, "What's with you?"

"Deliverin' things." The lizard man said, holding up a brown paper wrapped package before frowning in contemplation, "You don't liver here, the White Rabbit does. What're you doin' in her house?"

"Oh I didn't realize anyone lived here-"

"Thief!" He cried, grabbing John's wrist and dropping his package, "Thief! I should call a guard on you!"

"No! No!" John cried, struggling to free himself, "There's no need for that!"

"Go then! And don't come back! There'll be no robbers in _this_ forest! I should tell the Dodo, he had such high hopes about you Alice!"

"My name's not Alice!" John snapped angrily, "What is it with you people? George?! George come help me!" John looked back for help from his friend, but once again George Harrison had disappeared.

The lizard man directed him to the door and shoved him out, "Away with you! And get out of my forest too!"

"You don't own a _forest!_" John argued childishly, "I'll go where I want!"

"Guard! Guard!" The Lizard called, "Robber! Trespasser! Thief!"

That was all it took to send poor John running. He hurried into the trees, twisting his path in some weird attempt to lose the followers he was sure he'd have sooner or later. But as none came, and his legs burned with exhaustion, he let himself collapse on the ground.

Well... that had been rather unpleasant. How dare that man throw him out of his mother's house! Feeling a surge of anger building up, John hoisted himself to his feet and turned to run back. Only then did he realise he had no idea where he'd come from and now know idea of which way to go.

"Great," He sighed, looking around helplessly, "Just absolutely great..." he began walking where it looked like the greenery had been smushed a little, where he hoped it was trampled and not just growing in a weird direction. A surge of hope came through him as he spied some broken branches at about his height if he'd been holding his arms up in protection and quickly made his way past them. The forest grew darker as he walked, a light fog setting in around his feet that managed to chill his entire body.

Atlast he found it: the small house in the clearing! Smiling widely, John broke into a run, leaping over the gate and racing to the front door where he knocked quickly.

The door opened and the Lizard's unpleasant face filled the empty void. The two shared a look of contempt but merely arched an eyebrow.

"Did you forget to steal something?" He asked and John's face soured.

"I am _trying_ to visit my mother." John snapped.

"Who? Only the White Rabbit lives here." The Lizard frowned.

"That's me mother."

"Preposterous. The White Rabbit doesn't have children, she's to busy being late all the time."

Forgetting for a moment that the statement made no sense at all, John glowered and leaned on the doorframe in an effort to look threatening, "She had me. Now let me in to see 'er."

"She's not here right now, she's preparing for the croquet game later. Or making her way there, you never know with that rabbit!"

"Where's the croquet game?"

"At the castle, by invitation only mind you! Unless you want your head to end up being the Queen's personal croquet ball!" The Lizard cried, pushing his way past John and straightening his waist coat, "Now if you'll excuse me, I should probably see to the Reporters-which you scared off!"

"I didn't do it! It was George!" John cried, reminded of all the times he took the blame for all four Beatles. It got tiresome rather quickly.

"No matter, Alice she wont be back here for quite some time. I suggest you move on." The Lizard said, stomping off.

"Me names not Alice!" John shouted after him, watching the Lizard disapear into the foggy woods.


	6. Chapter 5

Stomping around in a huff, John somehow managed to wander from the wood and back into the giant garden. Marveling at how preposterous that was, the first garden had to still be completely submerged at the moment, John plowed on with the renewed idea to gloat to George about such a garden. The little guitarist turned gardener would be literally green with envy when John had finished with him, and who knows, maybe he could dump his scrawny butt in this mad house as revenge for getting him blammed for that stupid "race" busting up.

No, this couldn't be the same garden. It was to dry! Besides, as he walked trees surrounded the little garden, but they couldn't be the same trees as the wood he'd just come from right? Right!? This place was so confusing... John found himself wishing for a map or something, or maybe even a sandwhich to get his mind off food and onto his situation. He slowed his walk, looking around at the crystal blue sky slowly becoming covered by the dark green leaves of the towering trees. John thought he even spied a squirrel or two running about up there, he was sure he caught sight of a bird somewhere, and only because he ended up tripping over a rock in the path did he even look down from the odd scene above him.

John landed in the dirt rather painfully, for a moment he worried he'd given himself a bloody nose but it only seemed sore. He got up quickly, looking around to see if anyone had witnessed that and when he saw that no one was around began to walk quickly onwards down the path. It seemed like he'd been walking for an eternity and he figured he was no closer to finding anyone else in this place than he had been sprawled out on the ground. He looked up again and noticed some of the trees had wooden signposts nailed to them. However, he was now to small to see and try as he might he couldn't make any of the signs out, especially with his poor vision.

Grumbling, he turned in a direction when the path split into two gigantic paths and began walking.

"You'll never get anywhere going that way."

"You know George, for someone trying to be helpful you're not very good at-oh Hello." John blinked when he turned in the middle of his insult to see that the person who'd spoken wasn't his cat-eared friend but a large green catterpillar seated on a mushroom. In one of his many hands he held a cigarette which he took a drag on everyonce in a while as he looked John up and down.

"Hello," The large caterpillar nodded, "And I'm not a George, I'm a caterpillar."

"I can see that." John addmitted, "I just thought you were me friend, he keeps popping up and saying things before disapearing again."

"Sounds like a bit of a loony if you ask me." Th catterpillar said, sounding rather bored.

"No he's normally the normal one... I guess." John said, "Just today... He suddenelly has cat ears and a tail-and he freaks reporters out! I wish he did that normally, maybe we'd get some peace."

"Are you sure you're talking about the same person?" The caterpillar asked, "I know who you're talking about but he's never normal. And you speak of him as if you were friends, yet I've never seen you before." He lowered his green head from the cloud of smoke towards John, "Who are you?"

Without the smoke literally clouding his vision, John was now confronted with his producer's face, only now it was green and two antennas were sprouting from the top of his head.

"Who are you?" John asked, "You look like George Martin."

"I am the Catterpillar," the Caterpillar snapped, "I know who I am, but who are you?" He returned to sitting upright, head enveloped by smoke from his cigarette, and glared down at John, who frowned back.

"What's it matter to yeh eh?" John snapped, "Maybe I don't want to hand out me name to shady characters I meet by the road."

"I'm not shady, I'm smoky. And everyone knows who I am, but no one knows who you are do they?" The Caterpillar smirked, "Not like you're helping that case though right? Refusing to give your name out-that's shady if you ask me."

"Well, it doesn't matter much anyway," John said, shrugging as he stuck his hands in his pockets, "Everyone keeps calling me Alice anyway."

"Well what are they supposed to think? You don't tell them your name. And you certaintly look like an Alice to me."

"How's that?" John frowned.

"Dirt everywhere like you've fallen, maybe down a rabbit hole? And you smell of perfumes only the White Rabbit wears so that tells me you've been to her house already. You're tired from walking and you've fallen once or twice it seems," The Caterpillar smirked, "You've follwed the story rather well eh?"

John clapped his hands together, face growing bright, "Story! That's it! I'm in Alice in Wonderland!"

"Genius..." The Caterpillar rolled his eyes, "Now anyway, you still haven't answered the question: who are you?"

"So that means Brian was the Dodo... and Alistair was obviously the lizard... and you're the Caterpillar-"

"I know who I am!" The Caterpillar cried, "But who are you?!"

John grinned, holding out his hand, "John Lennon, guitarist for the Beatles, also playing the role of Alice!"

"I can see that. Now anyway, you wont get anywhere going in that direction. No where helpful at least."

"I wonder where that goes..." John muttered.

"The home of some rather mad individuals." The Caterpillar said, "I'd avoid it if I were you. Especially since one of them has gone and upset the Queen."

"Who?"

"The Mad Hatter."

John grinned brightly, "I wonder who's playing 'im eh? I'dve loved the role for me self of course but seeing as that's not possible..."

"The Mad Hatter is playing himself, as we all must." The Caterpillar said rather sternly, "And I really suggest you leave him be. The March Hare too, friends of freaks can only be freaks themselves."

"Very wise-ish sounding." John nodded docile, "Now anyway, how can I go anywhere? I'm to short."

"You are three inches high, a good height for anyone!" The Caterpillar snapped.

"Well, not if you're meant to go farther than a foot in an hour," John shrugged, only just noticing the rage coloring the green cheeks of the Caterpillar, "I've never seen George look that mad. It's weird you know..."

"I am the Caterpillar!" The Caterpillar cried, "I am exactly three inches high and it is an enjoyable height indeed!" He smoked furiously on his cigarette, the smoke coming off it filling the air around him so fast he was enveloped in seconds. John coughed furiously, tears stinging his eyes so much that it took a good minute or two to clear them.

"Caterpillar?!" He called when he'd cleared his eyes in time to see the mushroom was now unoccupied, "Caterpillar? Hello?!"

A shadow crossed over John and he looked up to see a large blue butterfly fly overhead.

"Caterpillar?!" John cried in surprise but he was gone, leaving John in the dust as he leaned against the fungus and tried to think about what came next when he'd read the book. He'd thought about reading it yesterday and now he wished he had. Then he'd be able to remember the next part.

"Oh!" John snapped his fingers and reached to dig a piece of mushroom free. Walking to the other side, he filled a fist with mushroom and considered both sides. One was supposed to make you larger and one smaller right? He just had to choose...

Nibbling on one side, John closed his eyes and willed it to be the side that made you larger. An odd sensation ran over him and John peeked to see he indeed was growing taller. He watched his line of sight surpass the daisies and tulips growing by the side of the path and go even farther than the first few branches.

"Crap! No! Stop!" John groaned as he surpassed the tree tops and t-boned a bird flying over. This bird could talk and he screamed a rather choice few phrases as he worked to restore his flight pattern. John grinned sheepishly and his growing began to slow. He sighed and turned to the other bit of mushroom now clutched gingerly between his fingers and gulped it down. Much more quickly than when he'd grown, he shot down to about five inches.

"Large," John muttered, taking two crumbs from the first piece of mushroom, immediately he shot to his proper height and leaned down to retrieve a small bit of the small side of the mushroom, "Small." He stuck both pieces in his pockets and turned to look at the signs. He could now properly see them and frowned when he discovered they said absolute nonsense.

One said "Up", another "Down", two pointing in different directions read "This way" "That way" and a fifth read "No way!". All were painted in bright colors and the wood had been cut so the arrows twisted in odd ways as the pointed you in a direction.

John groaned, wishing this could be a bit easier before shrugging and turning around to begin walking. If it was true the Mad Hatter could be dangerous he figured he wasn't ready. Besides, with his luck, he'd end up meeting Koschmidder as the Mad Hatter or something. That would be terrible indeed...

Besides, what was down the other path?


	7. Chapter 6

The wood around him turned slowly from dark to dim, and from dim to barely lit, and from that to, well, normally lit. He found it actually somewhat pleasant as he strolled along, hoping to find someone a little more easy going than the Caterpillar had been.

His prayers seemingly answered, it wasn't long before he came upon a large house in the wood, a small wrought iron gate running around it and a small flower bed running along the sides of the red brick house. The light shown down upon it and John heard and saw blue birds chirping as they flew in and out of the windows.

Smiling to himself, John hoped the fence and strode up the walkway, red bricks with moss growing between them, knocking politely on the fine white door. It creaked open, and John caught a whiff of bread baking from the inside and took a step over the threshold, immediately feeling at home for some strange reason.

The house was very nice, almost like a small, posh palace. Art work of all kinds decorated the dark brown wooden walls, and behind that inside the wood flowered carving of all kinds of designs. It was rather quiet in the house, no creaks from the house settling or loud bangs and running around. Instead he heard a voice or two coming from farther inside and that was it. Following his nose, John entered what looked to be the living room, where a woman who looked to be dressed as a Queen was sitting on the edge of a deep red futon playing with a small boy on the floor. She wore pinks and whites, and her light blonde hair was bound in a pretty headdress, which looked more like a thick light pink headband with pearls sown into it and a thick white veil reaching down to her shoulders. The boy seated on the ground, playing with her, was dressed in a thick checkered jacket like you see on boys who play princes in the school plays. He wore white leggings and there was a leather belt tied around his waist. Between them a gray-almost black cat with a black and dark grey striped tail sat playing with the toy mouse the woman was dangling before it.

At Lennon's entrance, the woman looked up, and John wasn't all that surprised to find it was Cyn smiling up at him. Julian looked around and smiled at him until the cat recaptured the small boy's attention.

Handing the mouse to her baby boy, Cynthia stood and smoothed the white folds in her skirts.

"Hello." She smiled and John walked forwards, slightly dazzled at the sight.

"Hi." He grinned, "You're pretty."

"Thank you." She laughed, holding out her hand, "I'm the Duchess of Wonderland. Behind me is my son."

"So your name isn't Cynthia Lennon?"

"No," The Duchess frowned, "That's a pretty name though."

John grinned and moved to sit down with her on the futon, "Shame, me girl back home's name is Cynthia. You look just like 'er."

"Really?" The Duchess smiled sheepishly, "That's nice." The cat pawed at her leg for attention and she reached down to pet him, "So what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at the Queen's croquet game?"

"Should I?" John asked, "Where is this mystical game I've been hearing so much about anyway?"

"The Queen's castle silly!" The Duchess smiled, "Anyway, it's rude to barge into people's houses you know. Makes you look like you don't have any manners."

"Maybe I haven't got any," John replied cheekily, "And anyway, isn't it just as bad to leave the door unlocked and bake good smelling bread?"

"Maybe it is." The Duchess grinned, "Would you like some?"

"Please, I'm starving!" John declared, only just now realizing it.

"Good, so am I." The Duchess said, standing and plucking her son from the floor and placing him on her hip, "And I'm sure this little thing is to eh?" She smiled, tickling his nose. The Baby laughed and swatted at her pink-painted nail. Underfoot, the cat hurried to keep up before disappearing down a hall just as John and the Duchess entered the kitchen.

Inside it smelled strongly of pepper, and John's nostrils were assaulted with a large cloud of it as the pepper shaker came flying by.

"Out!" A voice cried, "I'm busy!"

"Cook?" The Duchess called, "Please refrain from beaning our guests with the pepper." She sat down, placing the boy in a high chair before getting up again and plucking a still cooling loaf of bread from the counter and placed it on the table. Grabbing a jar of jam and a jar of chocolate, she handed a knife to John before cutting a slice off and spreading it with grape jam.

"Now eat carefully," She instructed the little Baby, "I don't want to have to change your clothes before we go."

John smiled at the Baby, clearing his bangs from his forehead for him before spreading chocolate on a slice of his own bread and taking a large bite.

"Fantastic!" He grinned, "Did you make this?" He asked the Duchess.

"Oh," She shook her head through a mouthful of bread, "My Cook did." She pointed across the counter and John caught a glimpse of an Asian woman in a white poofy hat and wearing a stark white apron. Her black hair was tied back in a bun and when she turned she bowed at being given credit for the food.

"My art is my food, and my food is my art." She stated bluntly, turning back around to continue cooking.

"Currently she's busy cooking food for the game today." The Duchess said, "She loves her art..."

"I can see that." John nodded, "She's good at it."

"Out! You're disrupting my work!" The Cook suddenly cried and the Duchess sighed.

"Let's go, she can be rather testy if she thinks we're going to mess things up. She wont let poor Cheshire in here anymore on account of the fact he always steals the cookies and things." She stood and plucked the baby from his chair, "Ah well, I'm sure we could all do with a bit of washing up. I know you two could." She giggled. The poor Baby had not managed to keep his jacket clean after all and John was suddenly rather conscious of the mud scraping his jeans and shirt. He must smell like lake water and cigarette smoke too, and who knows what else!

"I've something you could borrow," The Duchess suggested as they walked into the hall, "And there's a shower in the guest bedroom if you want it."

"Thanks a million." John grinned, running up the stairs with her direction, "I'll be real quick, I promise!"

Showering in Wonderland, what a story to tell right? Okay not really, but it was still a bit funny if you thought about it. John let himself relax under the warm water, drawing pictures in the glass door as the steam fogged them up. There was a knock on the door at some point and he learned The Duchess had placed the fresh clothes on the bed. When John was sure she was gone, he climbed from the comfortable wet and hot shower to find, indeed, nicer and newer clothes were waiting for him.

He donned a pale blue shirt, buttoning it almost all the way up so the collar hung open, and a pair of white jeans. His now muddy and rather ruined shoes had been replaced by black boots, and she'd even bothered to add a pair of white socks to the mix. John grinned, walking out of the room and down the stairs in his new clothes when he heard the Duchess' voice coming from the living room.

"I'm sure she'll love to meet him." She was saying, and John wondered if she was talking to the Cook. But he didn't smell pepper anywhere... maybe she was talking to the kid?

Stepping into the living room, he was surprised to find George laying across the Duchess' lap as she petted his hair.

"Suppose she's in one of her moods again though," He was saying, "She'd forget to be nice real easy..."

"Get off her." John snapped, dragging the cat-eared man into a sitting position. George pouted and turned to accept a chocolate from the Duchess who smiled sympathetically and stood to straighten the wrinkles in John's shirt.

"No need to be jealous of Cheshire, he's just a cat after all." She smiled.

John looked down at George suspiciously but all he did was grin cheekily as he bit down on the chocolate with his sharp teeth.

"Don't trust George for one moment you hear, he's a sneaky one." John cautioned and the Duchess cocked an eyebrow.

"Cheshire?" She asked, pointing to George.

"Me names Cheshire yeh git." George grinned, "Eh can I have another one for the road? I don't want to be here if it's just Pepper Lady in the house."

"Don't be silly, she's coming too." The Duchess said, picking her baby up from the floor and holding him tight, "Anyway, alright here." She handed another chocolate to the Cheshire who accepted it jovially and quickly made it disappear into his mouth.

"So... yer not George?" John confirmed.

"And yer not Alice." Cheshire grinned, "Which is good, she's alot prettier than you are."

"Play nice boys." The Duchess smiled, "Right, well, Cook and I are off. You two try to make it on time alright?"

"No promises!" Cheshire called as the Duchess walked from the living room. He then looked up at John and grinned, "I see yer properly dressed Alice."

"I thought you just said I wasn't Alice." John frowned.

"I say alot of things," Cheshire said, standing up, "Well, no point hangin' around here. Let's go to a party eh? That sounds fun."

"A party? What about this game everyone's so hoped up over?" John asked.

"Plenty of time." Cheshire said, waving his hand, "Besides, where we're going it's always the same time so it's only a minutes visit if you think about it."

"I'd rather not..." John frowned, not understanding a word out of the cat's mouth.


	8. Chapter 7

John walked with Cheshire out of the house and down the road, listening to the cat-like man babble about this and that endlessly. Cheshire would wander about the path as they walked and flip around to walk on his hands without warning. He began walking backwards part of the way and only turned back around when John threatened to trip him.

"You know, Hatter didn't think you'd make it this far. Sometimes he likes Alice, sometimes he doesn't. You're the first one he's been unsure of in a long time." Cheshire said, doing a cartwheel as he spoke.

"Sounds a bit pompous to me," John remarked, "Have you had to much sugar or something? Why can't you walk straight?"

Cheshire tripped up on the next turn of his cartwheel and landed on his butt in the dust. He grimaced at the pain but then grinned and rolled along the ground.

"Don't do that!" John cried, "You'll trip me up."

"Is it really that hard for you to walk?" Cheshire asked as he somehow fluidly flipped to his feet, "Must be quite a task for you."

"Hush." John snapped, brandishing a fist and Cheshire nodded, miming locking his lips and then pretending to zip them closed. As his fingers passed over them, his lips disapeared leaving behind unbroken pale skin.

"Woah!" John exclaimed, "How did you do that?"

The Cheshire shrugged, mumbling through his sealed mouth, but with a look from John quickly decided to make his mouth reappear and grinned widely.

"I'm a Cheshire Cat! Of course I can do whatever I want!" He exclaimed and John rolled his eyes.

"You're nothing like George." He said, "You're much crazier."

"Or maybe George is nothing like me, and he's much boring-er... is that a word? Boring-er? Should be one... We can put his picture under it in the dictionary! Wouldn't that be fun?" Cheshire laughed and skipped alongside John. John rolled his eyes and continued walking, soon they came to a fork in the road, and the signs bolted to the trees made him realize they'd come back the way he'd walked. This was where he'd met the Caterpillar, and at Cheshire's insistence they started down the path he'd said not to travel.

"So... are you friends with the Mad Hatter?" John asked.

"On a good day," Cheshire grinned, "On a bad day only a Bandersnatch would like him."

"A Bander... snatch?"

"Yep! Wish I'd suggested that." Cheshire grinned, walking on his hands again, "Hey do you think we're there yet? I'm getting tired."

"Of course you are! With all the gymnastics you're doing!"

"Oh yeah..."

"So anyway," John coughed, "What's the Mad Hatter like?"

"Utterly mad."

"I assumed so... But anything else?"

"He's a pompous pretty boy." Cheshire stated flatly, "Only the March Hare can take so much of him. And even then..."

"What's he like?"

Cheshire's eyes sparkled hungrily and he rubbed his hands together, "He's the best rabbit in the world!" He cackled, "Always giving treats and pets! I only really leave when I get sick of the Hatter's antics..." He looked at John excitedly, "Let's hurry up! You're much to slow!"

"I take as much time as any person," John argued.

"Right," Cheshire nodded, "And I'm not a person! Honestly, the first one didn't need me to hold her hand... why do you?"

"You volunteered to come with me!"

"Quiet! We're here!" Cheshire snapped, smacking John on the shoulder before running towards a large hedge fence connected to a small yellow house.

"Alright..." John shrugged, following at a jog behind Cheshire, who stopped before the gate and knocked twice on it with his knuckles. Then he unlocked it and swung the white gate open, grinning wide with excitement.

"Hello!" He called, running towards a long table set up in a large backyard. John was amazed how it looked so small from the inside. Lights hung lit across the branches of tall trees and at the head of the table sat a large plum chair, around it several other kinds of chairs ranging from lawn chairs to toilets. A few dining chairs and a love seat sat towards the other end of the table, which was piled high with food and different place setting for someone to attend the party.

Cheshire ran right towards the head, where, seated two chairs down sat a rather short man with long brown floppy rabbit ears. Cheshire collapsed on top of him from behind and the man jumped in surprise. However he grinned when he looked up, reaching out to grab a tea cake and give it to Cheshire.

"Took you long enough," He said in a thick Liverpool accent, "We've been waiting ages!"

"Have you?" Cheshire grinned, seating himself and leaning back, nibbling at his cake. John shrugged and sat down beside the cat, who looked at John wide eyed as the man with rabbit ears set down his cup in shock.

"What?" John frowned, looking between them.

"You haven't been invited yet," Cheshire muttered, "It's rude. Stand up quick before he notices!"

"I think Peter Cottontail already noticed-"

"Don't you know it's rude to sit at a table uninvited?" A voice drawled from behind John. Looking behind, John noticed there was a top hat sitting behind a large stack of tea pots, all filled and steaming with tea. "Who taught you manners?"

John leaned back in his chair to see past the pyramid of tea pots. Behind them, in the large plum chair, sat Paul McCartney wearing an expensive top hat and deep purple suit. He was suspending a pocket watch over his tea cup, swinging it back and forth on the gold chain and looking rather bored.

"I don't care if you're Alice, they always do this! Why has no one taught you a lick of manners yet?" He grumbled, sitting up straight and fixing his black tie.

"So you're the new Alice?" Ringo Starr, or the March Hare, asked as he handed Cheshire another cake.

"So there have been others?" John asked, nodding.

"Yep, come through every once in a while. Sometimes they stop in, sometimes they don't. Those are the rude ones, aren't they Hatter?"

"Indeed," The Hatter groaned, sipping his tea.

"So fellas, do you change your faces every time or something? Look like people they know?"

"Why would we do that?" the March Hare frowned, handing yet another cake to the appreciative Cheshire.

"Well, you look like me mates back home. Yet you don't act like them, and you claim to not be them."

"He kept callin' me George." Cheshire added through a mouthful of frosting, "He sounds rather boring if you ask me. Mistook the Duchess fer his wife-you should have seen how mad he got when he saw me there!"

"We'd all get mad if we saw you with the Duchess Chess." The March Hare grinned, "Pretty thing isn't she Alice?"

"Me names John, not Alice."

"That's what the last Alice said," the Mad Hatter drawled, "That one got beheaded by the Queen."

"Such a dreadful sight," The March Hare sighed, "Hey Hatter, that was the day she punished you isn't it?"

"Yep," The Mad Hatter snapped, "And look at me now, stuck drinking tea..."

"Queen of Hearts froze him in time," Cheshire explained through frosting-coated whispers to John, "They had a fight or something."

"It wasn't even my fault!" the Hatter added, "I didn't know she'd already heard that story! I was just trying to cheer her up!"

"The Queen of Hearts can freeze time?" John asked.

"Her dad is Father Time." The March Hare shrugged, "Anyway, don't know why he's grumbling, he's not actually stuck here. He could go to the game if he wanted to-and should do!"

"No way!" The Hatter argued, "No way am I gonna go crawling back to that pompous, mean, snivelly... pretty, bubbly little red head in a skirt..." He sighed dreamily and then groaned in frustration, "It's not fair!"

"You know she'll forgive you if you just suck it up and go you know." Cheshire counseled as he reached for another cake. The March Hare pulled them from his reach and Cheshire frowned.

"You'll get sick."

"No I wont!"

"You'll puke allover the Queen's roses-again! She blamed the Hatter for that one too you know," He said, turning to John, "Punished him by making him drink coffee instead of tea for a week. I don't know why he stays with her, that Duchess of Spades would be a much nicer girl for him."

"You said that about the Duchess of Clover too," The Hatter said, "And the Duchess that Alice here likes, and the Cook-"

"I was joking on that one!" The March Hare argued, "I know how much she hates you!"

"And just for not eating a rose tart once..." The Hatter grumbled, "Can I help it if I'm picky!?" He groaned and buried his head in his arms before shooting into a sitting position and staring intensely ahead.

"Is he alright?" John asked through a mouthful of cake.

"Told you he was mad." Cheshire shrugged, not paying attention.

"He does this sometimes," The March Hare said, "Don't pay to much attention to it."

"You." The Mad Hatter said, pointing at John and standing gracefully, "You." He repeated.

"Me?" John raised an eyebrow as the Hatter neared, leaning awkwardly close to John's face.

The Hatter studied him for a moment or two before spinning around and walking away, shrugging with his arms in the air, "Stay away from Art Hall's and Dentists in the future."

"I like art..." John muttered as argument but the Hatter merely began walking around the table.

"Oh Chess you've ate nearly all the cakes," he complained and Cheshire merely shrugged.

"They were good." He said, eating another.

"March control your cat!" the Hatter whined.

"He's not mine! He's Alice's!"

"Is not!" John cried, "He belongs to Cyn!"

"Is that yer wife's name?" The Hatter asked, suddenly incredibly interested as he sat down across from John, "Cyn?"

"Cynthia."

"Blonde?"

"Yeah..."

"I'd love to see a blonde Alice again... they're usually the nicest." the March Hare remarked before turning to Cheshire and snatching the cake away, "That's enough of that Chess." Cheshire grumbled and flopped across the March Hare's lap, the rabbit man rolling his eyes and beginning to pet George's hair.

"Do you have a baby too?" Cheshire asked, a low purring sound coming from his throat and his tail dancing behind him as the March Hare stroked his hair.

"Yep, the Duchess' kid was his age-looked like him too." John nodded.

The Hatter snorted, "Does he... you know?"

"What?" John frowned.

The Hatter looked left and right, then leaned forward to whisper in John's ear, "Turn into a pig?"

"What?" John frowned, looking shocked.

"Guess you caught him on a good day," The Hatter grinned, "When that kid gets upset he turns into a pig and tries to tear up the house. It's all the Duchess can do to control him sometimes." He laughed, "I remember this one time-"

"Gossiping's rude!" Cheshire called obnoxiously.

"Never mind," The Hatter grumbled, "Forgot her cat is laying allover me best friend."

John found that last statement to sting just a little bit. Paul was supposed to be _his_ best friend. George was Ringo's best friend, that was the proper order right? Then he had to remind himself these weren't his mates back home, they were some weird version of them. One's without a proper Lennon in their lives...

"So anyway," The Hatter sighed, checking his watch, "It is _still_ Six o'clock, so I have no idea what time it _really_ is. Suppose we should be on our way though, we'll be late no matter what at this rate."

"And after Duchie told me not to be late..." The Cheshire grumbled tiredly, eyes half-closed.

"You want me to carry you?" The March Hare asked and John blinked and there sitting in the place of the Cheshire cat was a black-grayish cat, snuggled perfectly into the Hare's arms.

"Well then," The Hatter grinned, slipping an arm through John's and leading him out the gate, "Let's go to a croquet match!"


	9. Chapter 8

The four lads seemed to walk for miles in a space of minutes. The surroundings, while still looking like woods, looked completely different. Thinner, lighter, overall a much nicer scene before. The path slowly turned from dirt and pebbles to a cobbled walkway. John walked alongside the Hatter and the March Hare, Cheshire situating himself comfortably in the Hare's arms as they walked.

"He's a rather lazy thing really," The Hare said as he scratched the top of the cat's head, "Whenever we walk to the castle he always makes me carry 'im. Sometimes I'm worried Hatter here will make me carry him too but of course he can't turn into a cat so he's got no excuse."

The Hatter rolled his eyes, "I don't need you to carry me March, and that little pussy wouldn't make you carry him if you said no once in awhile you know."

The Hare shrugged, adjusting his hold on Cheshire, who seemed to be half-way between sleep and consciousness, "He's to cute to deny. Especially like this you see. And anyway, the journey's probably impossible for a cat, so I'm really performing a charity here."

"To the Cheshire cat... who can appear and disappear where he wants at will." The Hatter pointed out.

So that was how he did it, John realized, explained a lot actually...

"Oh look!" The March Hare cried, "We're close!" He pointed to a set of tall gold spires rising from the line of trees, their tops capped with large red hearts that glittered in the sun. Even from here John could see that the hearts were probably painted in some sort of design, glittering gold here and there not just everywhere.

Suddenly the March Hare cried out in surprise and John turned to look as the cat jumped, rather desperately it seemed, from the Hare's arms and tore off the path and into the wood, getting swallowed by the mist. The Hatter unhooked his arm from John's and hurried over to inspect a long claw scratch along the Hare's arm where it had come into contact with the panicked Cheshire's claws.

"I'm fine," the Hare insisted, "Just surprised me is all, otherwise I would have just dropped him right then."

"What happened?" the Hatter asked, "Did you hold him to tightly?"

"No, he sneezed once or twice and then flew into a panic," the Hare said, "Come on, we gotta find him!"

"No, we should go to the party, Cheshire will show up." the Hatter said, turning to John, "Right Alice?"

The silence from John was all the Hare needed to tear off the path himself and run into the misting wood, the fog becoming thicker and thicker by the moment. Hatter groaned and ran after the rabbit man and John, not sure what else to do with himself, was quick to follow suit.

"Cheshire!" he could hear the Hare call through the fog, "Cheshire come on out now! We gotta go!"

"Cheshire! Get yer fat cat butt out here right now!" The Hatter screamed, "It's yer fault we're out here anyway!"

"Cheshire!"

"Chess!"

"Lennon. You're here."

That last one was said by the Cheshire cat himself, slipping behind John and grabbing his arm. John turned, relieved, and was about to yell for the others when Cheshire covered his mouth.

"Don't speak, she'll figure out where we are."

"Who?" John asked through the hand, the question sounding more like "_Oooh?_"

"The Red Queen... I really don't like her."

"Red Queen... isn't that who we're about to see?" John asked but just like that, as his mouth was released from the cat-man's grasp, Cheshire disappeared in the fog again. John groaned and turned to run after where he might have gone but was stopped when his face slammed into a tree. John cried out in pain and uttered a string of choice words as he felt his nose up and down to judge whether it was broken or in what way damaged. Finding not even blood, he continued to mutter curses against everything and everyone, including himself as he wasn't wearing those _stupid_ glasses!

It was when he leaned against the offending tree that he realized it was a rather odd tree, much like everything else here! John leaned himself close to squint at the wood, coming face to face with shiny polished brown wood cut into the design of a door... wait, it _was_ a door.

Deciding questions were far to useless at this point, John tried the handle and his eyebrows raised when the door swung right open. He poked his head through to see the hall from what seemed years ago, the one he'd fallen into and wandered endlessly. Frowning, John looked both inside and outside the door, wondering how this tree could appear bigger on the inside, or contain that hallway for that matter.

"Oh good, you found it," the Hatter said, appearing seemingly out of no where and grabbing John's arm as he dragged him through.

"What happened to looking for Cheshire?" John asked as the door slammed behind him.

"Oh he'll turn up," The Hare said, grabbing John's other arm and dragging him along, "He comes and goes as he likes. And anyway, isn't this more fun?"

They turned this way and that before the Hatter turned to ask an odd question.

"Do you think you'd recognize your mother?"

John blinked at the question a moment or two before crying, "Of course! Why wouldn't I?"

"Well, you're half-mad, and it's been years right?" the Hare asked.

"What makes you think I'm mad?"

John swore he heard Cheshire's laugh behind him, "We're all mad here." He muttered in a ghostly whisper and the Hatter and Hare stopped before a door painted a shiny metallic green.

"Got the key?" the Hare asked.

"Of course, of course, give me a moment," The Hatter muttered, fishing in his pocket before producing a ring of keys and inserting one into the lock and turning rather sharply. The door swung forward and John came face to face with the garden.

"Has everything just run out of ideas?" John asked aloud, "That why I'm suddenly going in a circle?"

"Maybe it's how it's _supposed_ to go?" the Hatter suggested, "Come on, we don't want to be late."

"Where are we going?" John asked as the Hare released his arm and hurried ahead as the flowers, now normal sized, gave way to a large hedge gate. Beyond it was a rather interesting looking garden, and beyond that stood what could only be the Castle of Hearts. Red hearts decorated everything brick or wooden, while the garden grew and twisted into heart shapes here and there. Red roses bloomed across the green leaves, and everything seemed to _glow_ with a brightness that screamed life and power.

"We're here!" the Hatter announced, dragging John down the garden path.

"Eh Hatter," the March Hare grinned, pointing at a rose bush, "Think she'll be able to blame you for that?"

John looked in the direction of the pointing to see the white roses that broke the spell of red and green surrounding him. Some of the bushes around the white roses dripped in red, like they'd been painted or something. John frowned, realizing that's exactly what had happened, and now he watched the bush filled with white roses quiver and shake.

"Who's back there?" the Hatter called and the shaking stopped abruptly. Then someone shot from the leaves and smiled excitedly.

"Hatter!" Pattie Harrison cried, dropping her red-drowned paintbrush and running to hug the neck of the Mad Hatter. John took in the sight as the Paul McCartney look-alike was tackled to the ground by the blonde bird in the tight white mini dress, the skirt flaring out and ending mid-thigh, a small red leather belt encircling her waist. When the Hatter finally managed to pry the girl off, John could see on the front of Pattie's dress was a red number 8 and eight red hearts stitched across her front like a playing card.

"Hey Eight," the Hatter said, "What are you doing back there?"

At this, Eight's face darkened in shame, "Please don't tell..." She whimpered, "It was an accident honest! We're trying to fix it right now."

"What?" the Hare frowned and Eight pointed to the white roses.

"Ten and I were just doing manietancence on the garden, you know after the big storm tore it up and so we planted some new bushes to replace the ruined ones... but it was a white rose bush instead of a red rose bush." Eight said, looking scared, "The Queen'll be really angry if she sees so we're fixing them before she sees at the game today."

The Hatter and Hare nodded sympathetically, "Don't worry, Alice will help you."

"What?!" John cried, turning to look at the two who smiled rather wickedly.

"We have to go greet the Queen, and it'll be better for you if I'm not in her sight when you meet her." The Hatter smiled.

"Beisides, Cheshire is always hanging around the Alice's, so if we leave he's sure to show up at some point." The Hare added, somehow sounding innocent with that wicked smile across his face. John scowled as they skipped away, literally skipping-what the heck?!-and turned to see Eight watching him.

"What?" He asked.

"You don't look much like an Alice," She remarked, reclaiming her paintbrush, "But that's just my opinion."

"I've been told," John nodded, "So why are you out here by yourself?"

"Oh I'm not, Ten is taking care of the bush over there," Eight pointed in one direction, "And Four is working on the one by the edge of the garden. She's really nervous, the Queen really doesn't like her very much."

"Why?"

"Because she thinks Four likes the Hatter, which is true but she's not dumb enough to act on it. And besides, the Hatter only has eyes for teh Queen." Eight smiled, the gap in her teeth making her look like a young school girl, "Come on, you can help Five, she's almost done. Then you can go to the party and you'll have still done what Hatter asked."

"Why do I have to do what he says? He's not the king."

"No but he could be. The current King is the Queen's brother, Peter. But he's bound to be replaced by whoever the Queen marries." Eight said as she led John down the path, "It's a good idea to be nice to powerful people before their powerful you know, and besides he's a good friend."

"I take it you hang out with him alot then."

"Well, when he's around sure." Eight smiled, "Cheshire is he one who hangs around here most though. The Queen flip flops over whether she likes him or not so he's always out here just in case. He's always willing to help out with the gardening, which is good because then we avoid mistakes like this." Pattie waved her hand in the direction of a rosebush blossoming with beautiful white roses. Kneeling in the grass before it sat a woman with long light hair and blue-green eyes.

"Five!" Eight cried, "I thought you were almost done!"

"I finished," Five said, "This is a new one," She regarded John, "Who's this?"

"The poor guy Hatter left to help us finish." Eight smiled and Five grinned as she handed John an unused paintbrush.

"Get on the other side and we should be done in no time." She said and John sighed as he dipped his brush in red paint and knelt down to paint.

"Thanks Alice!" Eight called over her shoulder as she walked back to her own bush.

"It's John!" John snapped as he painted the rose. On the other side of the bush, Five smirked and finished another rose, grabbing hold of another as she began to paint.

John grumbled and moved from rose to rose, his art school days coming into play as he finished rose after rose. He'd just started on the last rose when the sound of something hitting the grass behind him made John turn around.

"What are you doing?!" Cheshire cried, looking panicked and horrified, he pushed John away from the rose he'd just begun to paint, a red streak across one of it's white petals, and cradled it like a small child's head, "You've ruined them!"

"Cheshire!" Five cried, her head popping up over the leaves of the bush, "So you're the reason for all of this!"

"Duh!" Cheshire snapped angrily, "Who else could even _get_ these?!"

"White roses?" John frowned, "Wouldn't you get those from a gardener?"

"Not here!" Cheshire bristled, "That old heart-loving bat wont let anything that isn't _red_ in here!"

"It is _her_ garden Cheshire," Five admonished, "Honestly, I don't know what Eight sees in you other than a little vagrant!"

"She's _wasting _it though!" Cheshire wined, plucking the red streaked rose from it's bush and petting it like some sort of pet, "It's not fair!"

John had to give a wry smile, reminded very much of the garden-loving guitarist back home. Cheshire glared up at him and John snorted as Eight and a number of other cards hurried towards them.

"What's going on?" A blonde, American sounding woman asked, frowning as she looked down at Cheshire, "I should have known, Cheshire what did you do?" She had a red four, along with the four red hearts, stitched across the front of her dress like on a playing card. John assumed this was the girl the Queen was needlessly jealous of.

"Cheshire, why?!" A woman with dark olive skin, black shiny hair, and the number nine stitched into her dress cried, "You realize _we're_ gonna get blamed right?"

Cheshire looked down childishly before smiling nervously, "No?"

All the girls groaned and Nine and Eight both rolled their eyes like they were in the midst of an age old argument. A young blonde woman with the number three splayed across her chest shot Cheshire a scornful look and her fingers ran across one leg, which John realized was wooden. Had Cheshire gotten the girls in trouble before? What exactly was the punishment?

"Cheshire you're gonna help us fix this right now or we wont let you back in." Nine snapped but Cheshire merely pouted.

"You can't control me," He said, sounding more and more like a child, "And why would I? They were so pretty and you ruined them!"

"What's this then?"

The whole group turned to see Hatter and Hare standing behind them, Hare munching away on a small cake while the Hatter tore at a red apple with his teeth. He took another bite before swallowing and pressing forward towards the enraged girls and John and Cheshire.

"Your little pet's gonna get us all in trouble." Three snarled beside Two, who nodded her agreement nervously.

"He's not my pet," Hatter said without another glance to Three, but he did smile at Two who blushed. Behind him, Four looked around like what was going on in front of her wasn't. When he turned to smile at her though, Four's face practically glowed. Hare walked behind him, waving shyly to Five and Ten, who looked exactly like Maureen back home.

"What'cha got there Cheshire?" Hare asked, frowning when he noticed the cat-eared young man sitting despondently in the grass. Cheshire didn't move, but allowed the Hare to touch the white flower, his fingers tracing the red streak of paint along it's large petals.

"So it looks to me like Cheshire's havin' fun in m'lady's garden again?" Hatter smiled cheekily, "Well she won't like that."

"Exactly!" Nine and Eight cried in unison.

"Well there's only one thing to do: blame Alice." Hatter shrugged.

"What?!" John cried, "This isn't my doing! Blame the _criminal_!"

"You're painting her majesty's flowers." Hatter said, "She won't like that either."

"So are they!" John cried, pointing to the girls.

"I don't see a paintbrush in _their_ hands." Hatter shrugged again, "Only yours. Cheshire was just trying to stop you, and so were the poor girls. Right girls?"

Everyone was frowning as the Hatter looked at them, but a smile or wink had Four, Three, and Two looking somewhat swayed. John scoffed and threw the brush to the grass before stomping away from them, muttering about all the idiocy surrounding him.

Hatter smiled back at the girls before looking around, "I don't see anymore white flowers, and Hare and I wont say anything, don't worry girls." All of them looked somewhat relieved and Nine turned to lecture Cheshire about his foolishness only to find he was gone. Sighing, she hurried to join the group as they made their way back to the party.

John had already arrived, walking into a large clearing in the large garden to find large oak tables framing the edges of a clearing, where a croquet match was set up and ready to be played. A large collection of people dressed in large, colorful clothes were gathered around a large red Heart shaped throne, where atop sat none other than Jane Asher dressed like the Queen of Hearts, which here John guessed she was.

"Of course," He rolled his eyes, watching the red head speaking with a few royal looking older men in tuxes and sashes of red and blacks. Her hair was pulled back and a large crown sat atop her head, her red and white dress encasing her torso and exploding tastefully from her at the skirt. Her sleeves hung limply off her shoulders, the puffy red sleeves reaching to loop over the middle finger of her hands, one of which clung to a golden scepter with a crystal red heart on top of it.

"Alice!" John was about to correct whoever had just addressed him when he turned to see the Duchess there, smiling as she held her son's hand. She leaned down and pointed at a direction, sending him off before standing straight and smiling at John, "I see you made it. Where's Cheshire?"

"Hopefully getting torn apart for messing with the Queen's garden." John smiled and the Duchess smiled dryly.

"And it's a wonder why she finds him annoying? Anyway, come on, you can play on my team."

"Team?"

"For the match? We're about to start. We were just waiting for you and the Hatter to show up, and now that you have we can start." She took his hand and led John towards the large group of people, who parted to make way for the Duchess the moment they saw her. They marched right up to the throne and the Duchess curtsied before the Queen. After a moment, John jumped into a bow as everyone stared at him expectantly.

"I see you found Alice," The Queen of Hearts remarked, "Now if only that annoying Hatter would show up."

"Sorry love!" Hatter said, appearing from behind the chair and smoothly guiding a red rose into the Queen's hand, "Just had to find something to compliment that dress of yers."

The Queen of Hearts blushed despite herself and leaned up to peck the Hatter's lips before standing and clapping her hands together, "Let the match commence!"

John felt the Duchess grab his hand again, dragging him towards a collection of croquet mallets leaning against the tall hedge of the garden. They each had a blue stripe along them and the Duchess grabbed one to hold out to John, smiling when he looked at it.

"It wont bite." She laughed but John shook his head.

"I don't know how to play."

"Oh it's simple," The Duchess said, pointing to the small wire goals in the grass, "hit yer ball through the goals and the first one to make it through all of them wins." She explained, "And it's alright if your not good, it's better if the Queen wins anyway."

John nodded, and watched as the Duchess, the Hare, and the Dodo, who seemed to simply _appear_ from the crowd also plucked a croquet mallet into their hand and joined him at the side of the field. Beside them, holding red stripped mallets, came the Hatter, the Queen, and the girls Eight and Ten. They smiled at one another, Eight and Ten waving hello to the duchess, and the Queen clapped her hands together. A trumpet sounded and John looked up to see something that nearly took all the oxygen in his lungs away.

Julia Lennon, or rather John realized, the White Rabbit stood before the crowd, a vest with a large heart painted across it covering her white dress, reading from a large paper into a microphone in her hand.

"Let the Queen's annual croquet match begin!" She announced, "This year, the Queen of Hearts' team is comprised of the infamous Hatter, and her two servants, cards Eight and Ten." There was some polite clapping and Hatter reached over to press a chaste kiss on the Queen's cheek before clapping along with them.

"Playing against them this year is the Duchess and her team, comprised of Alice," an impressed muttering swept through the crowd, "The March Hare, and the Dodo." Both Hare and the Dodo waved to the clapping audience, John standing there feeling somewhat awkward while the Duchess smiled politely beside him. The White Rabbit sounded her trumpet again before marching back into the crowd. John looked around for her, only stopped from running after her by the Duchess' confused hand.

"Where are you going?" She asked.

"The woman... rabbit... I gotta see her!" John said, feeling desperate.

"You can't, it's your turn." the Duchess said, "Alice goes first."

"But I'm not-"

"Just take the shot mate," Hare interrupted, "Sooner we finish, sooner you can go after whoever it is you're after."

"But-"

"Is there a problem?" The Queen of Hearts asked impatiently and everyone around John began to visibly tense.

"No, no," John said, seeing the fear in the Duchess' eyes, "Let's play." Faking confidence, John stepped up to the small blue ball and took a swing.

He hit nothing, and the mallet writhed angrily in his hands. John frowned and looked down to discover his mallet had become a flamingo!

"Woah!" He cried, jumping back. The flamingo squawked and began to run, flapping it's wings, when Cheshire jumped out of the crowd and tackled it. John heard the Queen sigh impatiently behind him as he and the Hare hurried over to Cheshire and the flamingo he'd wrestled to the ground.

"Good kitty!" the Hare laughed, "Can we have that back?"

"But I'm hungry!" Cheshire whined and John felt his eyes grow a size or two larger, "Really?"

"He is a cat..." the Hare muttered to John under his breath.

"I heard that!" Cheshire cried, looking annoyed.

"Give it back this instant and I'll fetch yeh a cake alright?" the Hare sighed and Cheshire released the bird immediately. Hare snatched it before it could fly away and handed the struggling flamingo to John, who took it feeling awkward and unsure.

"Just show it control mate," Hare said, "Don't worry." John looked down to realize he too was holding a flamingo and then looked around to see everyone else was as well, the Hatter stroking the feathers of his looking rather bored as the Queen grew visibly more and more impatient.

"Alright..." John said, following Hare back to the match and standing before the blue ball, which had become a blue hedgehog! He swung again and this time the bird straightened itself enough to knock it's head against the balled up hedgehog, which flew through the small goals in the grass and landed a few feet away. There was polite applauding and John retreated to his teammates, feeling awkward and embarrassed at the way he was playing this game.

The Queen hurried to take her place before her red hedgehog, swinging her flamingo hard and sending the ball flying through the hoops, landing it farther than John had. She smiled at her distance, enjoying the applause of the lookers on and her own teammates.

"Good play love!" Hatter called before whistling with his fingers as he clapped. Eight and Ten jumped up and down, looking excited as they clapped. The Queen bowed and curtsied, returning to where she stood beside the Hatter and letting the Duchess take the field.

The game continued on like this, with the Blue team receiving polite clapping and the Red team enjoying overzealous applause, the Blue team making easy mistakes and obvious foul-ups. The Hare went so far as to let his flamingo trip him up and land him face down in the grass. John quickly grew tired of the game and kept waiting for it to end, not sure when such a thing would occur. He looked around from time to time, hoping to see the White Rabbit, but she never seemed to reappear.

The game plowing on, John began to take his third turn when it happened.

He felt Cheshire simply appear beside him, leaning on John's shoulder, and he was inspecting his claw-like nails.

"I wonder what she'd do if the old bat didn't win for once." He said rather loudly, causing a hush to fall over the group. Hare and Hatter visibly paled, Eight and Ten face palming in frustration. John quickly swung his flamingo, the bird pulling it's head back as he did so and causing him to miss. Cheshire quickly shot his foot out and kicked the little animal through a goal, then ran with it to kick it through two more.

"Cheshire!" Hatter cried, "That's cheating!"

"It's fun!"

"What are you doing you mangy cat!" the Queen raged, her pale face turning red as she marched out towards them. Fearing for his safety, John turned to run to the safety of his team but that was when Cheshire kicked the hedgehog so it flew up to hit John in the head, bounce back, and roll through another goal. John cried out in surprise and turned, ready to beat a few lessons into the cat only to find he'd disappeared.

The Queen huffed in outrage and angrily swung her flamingo, sending the ball flying hard and then she stomped back to her team. She grabbed the Hatter by the lapel and shouted angrily, "Keep your cat in line!"

Instead of decreeing that Cheshire wasn't his cat, Hatter simply nodded nervously and was pushed away from the Queen. John thought he looked a bit like a kicked puppy, who then angrily turned to glare at Hare, who grinned sheepishly back before handing John his flamingo.

"Take my turn for me, I'm gonna go find that idiot!" He hissed before running away from the group towards the garden. John groaned and threw the flamingo to the side before marching back on the field and swinging at the blue hedgehog. He missed of course, his ornery bird refusing to be used as a croquet mallet, but the hedgehog still flew on it's own. It rolled through the goals one by one, it's movements jerking here and there as it corrected it's path each time it started to veer to far from a goal.

"Cheshire stop!" Hatter called and Cheshire's laugh could be heard just as the Hare reappeared and began to run towards the moving hedgehog. Just as he neared it, Cheshire appeared in time to kick the small animal through the last goal... winning the game for the Blue team.

"Blue team wins, Queen of Hearts is pinned!" He cried jubilantly before Hare tackled him to the ground.

"You idiot!" Hare cried as the Queen's anger boiled over and with a raging red face screamed those famous words:

"OFF WITH HIS HEAD!"

"No!" Screamed the Duchess, who hurried towards her cat, pushing past John and Hatter, who was pulling Hare to his feet. She knelt beside the sitting cat and boxed his ears, "What were you thinking?"

"Down with the bloody Heart Queen!" Cheshire cried, jumping to his feet and spinning the Duchess around. Beside them, John, the Hatter, and the Hare frowned as the Dodo groaned and Eight and Ten covered their mouths in shock. The audience screamed in shock and outrage while the Queen screamed for his head. Men in white uniforms with red hearts and numbers swarmed the group and converged on the small group around Cheshire, who hugged the Duchess to him.

"Cheshire?" She said, touching his hand as he leaned into her and smiled at John and the others.

"No one moves or the lady gets it!" He laughed and it was here John noticed he was sweating despite the fact that it was pretty cool outside, a breeze blowing across them that very moment.

"Is he alright?" He muttered to the Hare, who frowned as he regarded his friend and shook his head.

"No, he most certainly is not." Hare whispered as they heard a small groan escape Cheshire's mouth. He leaned more into the Duchess, who tried to turn her head to look at the cat and he grinned at them.

"My head hurts," He muttered before another laugh escaped him and he pushed the Duchess towards John, "Cheer for the future King and Queen of Wonderland!"

"Cheshire!" the Duchess and the Hatter cried in shock before he shrugged and the guards grabbed him. Two forced him to his knees and another kicked his upper back forward so he was now kneeling forwards.

"DO IT NOW!" The Queen of Hearts screamed, "OFF WITH HIS HEAD!"

"No!" Hare cried in fear, the Duchess covering her mouth as tears pecked at her eyes. The guard raised his sword and swung down, only to find his weapon his grass and dirt. Cheshire's chuckle rumbled through the crowd.

* * *

**So, I decided to make the Beatles girls (most of them) the playing cards so there would be more time to really interact with them. Anyway, to get their number I added up the numbers in their marriage dates (for example, Pattie Boyd married George Harrison on 21 January, 1966. So, 2+1=3, then January is the first month so 3+1=4, and 1+9=10, 6+6=12, (removing the 0 on the 10) 1+12=13, and 4+1+3=8, therefore she's the Eight of Hearts). But I had to use Maureen's divorce date to Ringo since her marriage date also equalled 8 and I'd already written Pattie in as Eight by then, and the aprox. date Paul began dating Nancy since that date came out to Five. Alot of math huh (and I don't even like Math!)?**

**So, here's who is who:**

**Pattie Boyd: Eight**

**Linda McCartney: Four**

**Maureen Starkey Tigrett: Ten**

**Barbara Bach: Five**

**Olivia Harrison: Nine**

**Heather Mills: Three**

**Nancy Shevell: Two**

**I didn't include Yoko, Cynthia, or Jane for obvious reasons.**


End file.
